Recently I started on a new client which requires me to regularly travel every Monday through Thursday. What this means is that I wake up at about the same time as hard-candy-loving senior citizens every Monday morning and leave town, only to return at about the same time as every booze and freedom-loving 20 something who’s hitting the town Thursday night. Being gone all week only leaves me with Friday to address all the day to day tasks of the week, like expense reports, time entry, ahem…writing in this blog (muffled voice), etc. This one day I have in the office consists of me being on the edge of my seat, locked in the zone, running through a to do list longer than Gene Simmons’ tongue. Usually the sight of a guy with headphones on, who looks like he’s about to dive into his computer screen is enough to deter people from stopping by for the usual banter session. That is unless you’re…

ANDREW SINGLETON

(Disclaimer: I have no idea who the man in this photo is, he just reminds me of Andrew)

What do you mean bowl cuts went out of style during Michael Jordan’s heyday?

This man is not a real person. All I really know about him is his desperate need to A. Get a new haircut (which he has yet to realize) and B. Inflict imaginary violence on unassuming workers and then walk off as if nothing happened. For example, I’m sitting at my desk, like I said, engulfed in my computer screen, working on an expense report, just….about….to hit…subm-“WAKOW!” I hear it just in time to look up and see none other than Andrew Singleton thrusting his fist into my chest. You see….apparently it’s wielding an imaginary dagger and now it’s my job to pretend that I’ve been stabbed and am in pain..It’s strange because even though it’s disrupting, and I hate it, and I think Andrew’s a freak…. for some reason I always find myself obliging by practically reenacting a scene from Gladiator in my dress clothes.

ARE YOU NOT ENTERTAINED?

What’s weirder than all of this though is that, AFTER I’ve accepted Andrew disrupting me, AFTER I’ve been stabbed, AFTER I’ve pretended to be on the battlefield with him, I give in and decide to be nice and ask how he’s doing. I mean this is just his way of starting off a conversation right? Wrong. This is the precise moment where he walks off without answering, I shrug to myself, put my headphones on and get back to work. I review my expense report, and move the mouse towards the subm-

SHAPOW! GOTYA!

….I smile to myself, another unassuming worker has been slain at the hands of Andrew Singleton.